


Natales

by Allurasgrace



Series: Dragon Age [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:00:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27020896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allurasgrace/pseuds/Allurasgrace
Summary: Solona returns to her childhood home to rekindle the bonds of family... a little too late for family she used to know.
Relationships: Female Amell/Morrigan
Series: Dragon Age [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972021
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Natales

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in an All-Origins worldstate, i.e. that there was a Grey Warden from every origin. Likewise, I have twin Hawkes. This focuses on Amell and the Hawkes, and the realisation that Amell's father killed Leandra and the Hawkes killed her father.
> 
> This takes place right after Witch Hunt and right after Act 2.

It had been a lifetime since Solona had set foot in Kirkwall. Even longer since she had laid eyes on the Amell estate.

She tugged on the tunic she wore, blue and purple like Morrigan enjoyed on her, with the silver embroidery of the Amell crest- a color she had adopted from her time in the Grey Wardens. _Leading_ the Grey Wardens of Ferelden.

But that, too, seemed a lifetime ago.

In reality, it had only been six months. Six months since she stepped through the Eluvian with Morrigan. Since she met Keiran.

Solona shook her head and looked again on the estate.

It was solemn, exactly like she remembered it the months before…

Before her own stupidity ousted her as a mage.

It had been childish. She had remembered when her Aunty- Great Aunt- Bethann had been happy, and when she would sing songs in the estate with Leandra and Revka, and Solona would quietly raise her voice to join them, when she wasn't with her father.

Quiet, reclusive.

He had warned her not to let any of them know of her magic, not even her mother.

She still remembered her mother's sobbing screams when the templars came to collect her, the cold steel of their armor digging into her ribs as they picked her up and the searing pain of smite that silenced her frightened burst of magic. 

She remembered the disappearing visage of her father as he took little, newborn Leann, Damion, Daylen, and Fausten, and led them back inside the manor.

Solona didn't think they would have been pleased to see her, even for all her accomplishments.

A Knight-Enchanter, a battle mage held in high respects on the battlefield. A Grey Warden. The "Hero of Ferelden," whatever meaning that title held. It would only have meaning if it had been a sacrifice, as it had for those that came before her.

There had been no sacrifice for her. No death.

But if she had died, she wouldn't be here.

On the other hand, the only Amells left were Leandra and Gamlen.

Solona wasn't even sure either of them were in the estate. From what Carver had told her, Gamlen had lost it. The coin from the Deep Roads expedition he and his brother had gone on was supposed to help return the estate to them. To their mother, Leandra, to whom it had been willed.

There were candles lit, their soft glow visible through the windows.

That was promising.

Solona took a steadying breath- this shouldn't be so hard, she had fought through darkspawn, seen Broodmothers, and killed the archdemon- and stepped onto the estate's steps leading up to the door. It was the same door she remembered, but… older. More worn. The years of disuse had taken a toll on it, but it remained sturdy and had been recently cleaned.

The knocker was new, though.

She raised her hand to knock three times and took a step back. With a glance at the dusky sky, she wondered if it was too late for this right now.

Then, the door opened. A petite elven woman peeked out from behind it, and with her, the scent of cinnamon.

"Oh, hello…" the elven woman began.

"Solona. Solona Amell. I'm here to see Leandra?"

The woman nodded along as she spoke- her expression twisting painfully at the mention of Leandra. "Oh… she's… she's gone."

"Gone?"

Before the woman could say more, another woman's voice spoke up, _"Orana, who's there?"_

That must have been Marian, Carver's older sister.

Orana gave her a terse smile before turning her attention back inside. _"She says she's Solona."_

 _"Solona? Like… our cousin?"_ a man asked. She could hear footsteps shuffling towards the door now.

 _"Our Hero of Ferelden cousin."_ Marian said, slightly sour.

 _"Marian."_ Garrett chastised her. The door creaked open more, Orana quickly slipping passed Garrett deeper into the estate. He blinked at her, an air of quiet hanging over them as they examined each other. Despite her lack of knowledge all those years ago, he looked very much like he had in the dream Sloth had tried to trap her in. 

"No one told me your eyes were purple."

 _My eyes?_ Solona's lips twitched wryly. "They were blue, once upon a time. Yours are yellow."

"Yeah…"

Marian ducked under Garrett, stepping in close to Solona with scrutinising eyes. "The family looks don't go far, do they?" 

"No, apparently not."

Of her five siblings, none of them had anything but pale skin and black hair.

"Just the eyes." Garrett added.

"Just the eyes." Solona agreed.

Marian stepped back, nudging into Garrett's arm and crossing her own. She glared daggers at Solona. "You could have been here just a few months earlier." 

A few months sooner? In Amaranthine, she had heard about the Arishok and a war the Qun had waged on Kirkwall.

But this couldn't be about the Arishok.

"Did something happen to your mother?" she guessed.

"You could say that." Garrett said, putting a hand on Marian's shoulder. "It's not her fault. Let's all go inside. Orana made cinnamon buns and tea. They're good."

Marian hugged a little and slipped past him inside. Garrett gave her an apologetic smile and stepped aside, gesturing her inside. Solona nodded as she passed him. By the door, she set the sheathe of Spellweaver.

It didn't look anything like she remembered.

It didn't look how Carver had described, either. It was fully furnished, it was dusted and renovated. 

The kitchen was still in the same place, and a dining room had been erected where there had once been one- but the table was smaller, it wasn't as heavy, it was a different wood altogether. 

Sitting chairs were huddled by the fireplace, dark red like Aunt Bethann had hated. She preferred her furniture to be blue and green. Uncle Aristide had been quite fond of red, but Aunt Bethann got what Aunt Bethann wanted.

A familiar figure sat in one of the chairs, sipping tea as though he had been born a proper Orlesian noble.

"Bodahn?" 

Bodahn stirred, looking back at her. "Ah! Mistress Solona, it has been quite some time. How have you and your warden friends been?"

"We've been well." She didn't think any of them were pleased with her. Especially not Lyna. "Is this where you and Sandal went off to? I tried to find you; it would have been helpful to have you both at the new Warden's Keep."

"Ah, sorry about that…" Marian must have been glaring, because he stood. "Ah, but I should go check on Sandal. Good night."

"Good night, Bodahn."

As he shuffled off, Marian sat in his chair. Garrett sat in another, and gestured to the third. "Sit, please."

Solona sat. 

It reminded her of the chairs her father had kept in his study. She looked up at the mantle; hanging above it was a portrait of Leandra. She had always looked similar to her own mother, Revka.

Once upon a time, they'd had funny stories about being confused for each other.

"Orana said your mother is gone." Solona said when the silence stretched on.

"... yeah. She is." Garrett's voice was soft, mournful.

Solona continued staring at the portrait. "That's a shame… I remember singing with her, up there." She glanced towards the balcony overlooking the foyer. "She had a lovely voice. It would have been nice to…" ...do what, exactly? "...talk with her."

"You're not even going to ask what happened?" Marian angrily demanded.

"No."

Marian growled a little as she bolted to her feet. "She was murdered! She was killed and butchered by a blood mage, and stitched together with other women's bodies!" Solona blinked slowly at her. "And if you had been here-"

"That's enough, Marian." Garrett cut her off, standing only so he could put his hand on her shoulder. "We… we didn't realise until too late." he added gently. "It… it's not any of our faults."

"It _is_ our fault!" Marian lamented. Solona could see tears prick her eyes. "I-if we'd paid more attention to her, we would have noticed the lilies and we would have realised-"

"The city was going to _hell,_ Mary. We have to forgive ourselves; Mother did."

Solona stayed quiet as Marian's tears of anger spilled out. Instead, she leaned forward and plucked one of the cinnamon buns from the plate they rested on and took a bite of it.

 _Mm. These are good._ she thought to herself.

Garrett hugged her, although she resisted at first before deciding to hide herself instead. She murmured unintelligibly, muffled. 

Probably blaming herself still.

Solona wasn't very good with that. She was the reason her family had been ripped to pieces.

"It was a mage named Quentin," Garrett began, "-he was trying to use necromancy to… to recreate his wife." Solona's brow crept up. _Quentin?_ She knew that name.

She had heard her mother giggle it every time her father brought her flowers.

_"Oh Quentin, these are beautiful~ you always get me lilies~"_

_"They're your favorite~"_

"I… I guess Mother looked like her. Her face, anyway. He said it was the same."

Solona blinked.

_Could it…? No._

No, the chances were impossible. Her father was probably far, far from Kirkwall. He had five children, and four of them had shown signs of being mages, all but little newborn Leann.

"I'm sor- did Marian say lilies?"

Garrett blinked and Marian jerked upright. "Yes?" he answered, confused.

_"Oh no, Father…" Solona picked up the rigid kitten, so skinny she could see its bones through its fur. "Will it be alright?" Flies buzzed around, landing on its fur._

_Her father leaned over her shoulder, a deep frown on his features. "Yes, yes I think it will." He brushed away the fly and turned his hand in the air. Blue energy gathered in his hand, building like a soft flame. With his hand open, he gently stroked the kitten's pelt._

_Solona broke into a grin as it shifted in her hand, opening its single remaining white eye. It meowed, a raspy and awful sound a child of eight years should have been frightened of._

_Instead, she set it down and pet its head, with its little triangle ears._

_"Where do you think its mother is? She'll be happy her kitten is okay, won't she?"_

_"Of course."_

_Solona grinned up at him and he smiled down at her with pale, blue-grey eyes._

"... do you have anything of his?"

"What?"

Solona stood. "Do you have anything of the mage's?" She said it harder this time. 

"Um… yeah we… we didn't know what to do with his grimoire."

"I told you we should have burned it!" 

"What if there was a demon in it?"

"Then we would kill it!"

"Marian-"

 _"Garrett."_ she countered.

Solona put a hand on either of them and pushed them apart, letting go of Marian as she passed her behind her back. "I want to see it, Garrett."

Garrett blinked at her, startled for the briefest of moments before nodding. "Alright, I'll go get it."

As Garrett disappeared up the stairs, Marian scoffed. "Why do you want to see it? It's evil!"

"The morals you assign knowledge should not restrain whether one views it."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Solona pivoted to view her. Marian had her arms crossed and anger in her yellow eyes. "It means that I don't care how you feel about it, _I_ judge whether it has use."

"Excuse me?"

"No. Now sit." Solona raised her hand, the pale grey energies of telekinesis quickly at her beckoning call. With a wave, Marian was yanked into her seat with a yelp.

Torn between anger and shock, she guffawed at her. "Seriously?!"

"It works on Carver."

"What the hell?!"

Solona didn't sit nor did she dignify Marian with a response. 

She felt restless, anxious energy prickling her skin for the first time in years. 

Her Harrowing hadn't scared her- she had been called insolent by a spirit of Valor, something she wore with pride, and called clever by the demon of Pride. Fighting the archdemon hadn't scared her, either. She had been focused, Purposeful, and the possibility of death hadn't mattered. 

Many minutes later, what felt an eternity, Garrett returned. In his hands, a stitched together leather book. It didn't look familiar- that was good.

Quentin. Necromancy. Lilies.

Leandra.

The tension in her shoulders steadily grew. Garrett held out the grimoire and she accepted it. "Are you… alright?"

"I'm fine." she answered automatically. Clipped.

She opened the book.

Her heart sank.

She knew this handwriting. It had changed in small ways, but she knew it. The way the tail of the 'y's curled, the sharpness of the 'n's.

"You don't look fine." Garrett commented.

"Yeah, you could loosen your jaw." Marian sniped.

Solona closed the book.

"I'm sorry. I should leave."

She had taken only a step when Garrett blocked her. "Why?"

"You know something." Marian accused her.

"Yes."

_"Yes?"_

She wouldn't deny it.

"... Leandra and Revka, the songbirds of the Amell family. They looked just the same, everyone would say. 'So similar.' Her favorite flowers were lilies… and my father was named Quentin." She looked down at the grimoire. "He was a mage, an apostate- but my mother, Revka, didn't know. She didn't even know I was a mage."

Silence.

She met Garrett's eyes and held them easily. "You're saying… Quentin, who killed our mother… was your father. Are you sure?"

"I recognise his handwriting."

"What. The. Fuck." Marian growled.

"Marian, let's just. Sit." Garrett intercepted her with an outstretched hand. _"All_ of us."

Solona shook her head. "I should leave."

"You're family. Sit."

She sat back down. Marian glared at her angrily. Garrett took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "This is fucked." he breathed.

Solona said nothing.

Marian said nothing.

They just held each other's eyes.

"Can you two fucking stop that?" Garrett asked, elbows on his knees. "I'm trying to process this." Marian grumbled to herself. "So- our mother's looked like each other? Then… then that portrait we found in the foundry, that was actually Revka?"

Solona shrugged. She hadn't seen the portrait.

Garrett nodded a little, as if that had been an answer. "Okay. Fuck, we killed your father."

"... so you did." Solona said finally.

She hadn't thought of that. Her thoughts soured and the tension stayed in her shoulders and spine, keeping her sitting very straight.

"He killed our mother."

"And a dozen or so other women."

"Yeah…"

"Who he butchered."

"...yeah." Garrett agreed again.

Solona's mind swirled. She had known her mother had… died, her father had been able to send her a single letter at the time to tell her. It had also been his letter of goodbye. That he was taking her siblings and leaving Kirkwall, that he didn't want to lose any more of them.

But… this?

"He used to reanimate kittens." she murmured in a daze.

"What?" Garrett whispered.

Marian stared at her, this time dumbfounded. "Reanimated?"

"I found a dead kitten once. He used magic to make it…" Well, not alive. But she hadn't known better at the time. "... seem alive."

"What the fuck?" Marian repeated, more softly this time. 

Quiet fell over them once again. Uncomfortable and stifling. Solona rarely found silence unbearable, but this silence was heavy. 

Solona hadn't hoped to reconcile with her family when she came here. She had just wanted to learn what happened. Talk to… well, Leandra and Gamlen. In every iteration she had imagined this, it had been her uncle, her grandparents, Aunt Bethann and Uncle Aristide.

But mostly, her uncle. Damion.

He had pulled her out of the estate, he had given her to the templars. He had pushed Revka away when she tried to grab her hand.

Solona had wanted… vindication.

To lord over him her success- the prestige she held in the Chantry, after all they would have taken her back if she chose to return and they would have felt pleased, her title as the one who struck the killing blow to the Archdemon and ended the Blight, her position as the Commander of the Grey in Ferelden and Arl of Amaranthine… although she supposed she forfeited those when she stepped through the eluvian with Morrigan.

And she didn't regret that at all.

For the first time since her childhood, she felt light. She felt free.

The only thing missing was the Void where her siblings once were. Her family.

She had considered that Gamlen might resent her, or he might want something from her- or both. She had hoped Leandra would accept her. She had run away with an apostate, after all, surely she could accept an accomplished and respected mage as family?

Solona had not considered the possibility her father would murder the one member of the family that survived the years. That her father would become… something so awful and twisted.

What happened to her brothers and sister?

"Solona…" Garrett broke the silence.

"Garrett." she replied automatically. 

He was quiet for a moment, obviously in thought. "Gamlen said your father left Kirkwall with your siblings?"

"He did?"

"Yeah, that's what Gamlen said."

"I know my father did. I was more surprised 'Gambling Cousin Gamlen' said anything about it."

Garrett barked out a laugh. Marian gave him a withering look, but he didn't notice. "Yeah. Mother wanted to know what happened to everyone. Your mother, she…"

"Killed herself, I know."

Garrett swallowed obviously, almost choked. "I don't know what happened to your siblings, but we found letters… your father got caught by the templars. He was taken to the Starkhaven Circle."

"If he got caught, either Daylen took care of everyone else or they're in Circles now."

"I'm sorry."

"It had nothing to do with you."

"I know."

Quiet stretched again for another few moments.

"When you last saw Carver, how was he?"

Solona shrugged. "He seemed fine. A little prickly, but we had to deal with Cousland and Tabris." Garrett raised a brow, while Marian feigned disinterest, so Solona continued. "Elissa was very angry, Kallian had a quick and vindictive temper. Carver is like a baby compared to them. Last I was in Amaranthine, the two had taken to him quite well. He was fitting in."

Marian snorted while Garrett smiled. "That's good. I'm glad. I… I felt terrible for taking him to the Deep Roads."

"It wasn't fair of Mother to blame you for him and Bethany."

He reached out to his sister, gently squeezing his hand in gratitude.

"Have you told him?"

They hesitated. "No. We haven't. Not yet."

"'Hey Carver, while you were gone being a Grey Warden, Mother got murdered!' sounds great in a letter." Marian added sarcastically.

"Maybe… if you're headed back to Amaranthine-"

"I'm not."

"-ah…" Garrett trailed off.

Marian narrowed her eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be-"

"Yes. But not anymore."

"Why not?" she demanded.

 _Because I ran away with my apostate lover. It runs in the family._ "I wanted to be free." she said instead. It was the truth. Running away with Morrigan… was just part of that.

They blinked. They exchanged glances and fixed their twin gazes on her. A silent question, begging for elaboration.

"The Grey Wardens are… a different kind of leash. I already escaped the Circles. I became a Knight-Enchanter. But that was still a leash. I wasn't interested in being a Grey-Warden, but I was dying at Ostagar." Marian perked up. "The Constable conscripted me- my skills were too valuable to lose. I killed the Archdemon, an act that is supposed to destroy the soul of a Grey Warden- but I lived. As far as I'm concerned, my oath to the Grey Wardens is fulfilled."

"You were at Ostagar?"

"One of seven mages permitted to serve with the King's army."

"I had no idea! We were so close!" Marian agonised. Solona nodded; Carver had expressed the same sentiment… somewhat.

Garrett shook his head slightly. "Will the Grey Wardens see it the same way?"

"Some will."

She had faith that Theron had moved on from her disappearance already, not out of indifference but understanding. Kallian probably had. She had disappeared for a year and a half with Zevran. Elissa… likely envied her.

It was hard to say what Duran and Natia would feel. Out of anyone, she felt they were the most likely to try and convince her to return- and yet, she doubted they would. Duran was determined and Natia was focused, but neither were stubborn. They yielded when they had to, they tried things another way when they didn't work the first time.

Solona had no doubts that Lyna was angry with her, but was she angry that Solona left the Wardens, or that she was left behind? It would be a bitter irony; Lyna would not have left without her elder brother anyways.

"So you're not truly free. They'll come looking for you."

"Perhaps."

While no one in Amaranthine would come for her unless they truly needed her, the First Warden in Weisshaupt might have other ideas.

"What will you do if they do look for you? Or if the Chantry learns you left them and tries to return you to the Circles?"

Solona smiled faintly. "I'll kill them, of course."

Marian rolled her eyes. "How do you plan to kill templars? By yourself?"

"It's not hard. I just have to snap their necks or use my dir'misaan." The curved blade rested by their door, farther away from her than she would like.

Neither of them knew how to react to that.

"Snap their necks? Aren't you a mage?" Marian guffawed. "What if they cleanse you?"

"Cleansing hurts, but I don't need to use magic to kill them."

They were quiet for a moment.

"You're scary, aren't you? What do you think Varric would nickname her?"

_Varric?_

"'Scary' works." Garrett agreed with a nod.

"Don't nickname me; I'm not staying here." Solona clarified, "Kirkwall is a shithole." 

Garrett barked a laugh. "At least meet Varric? He would love to hear about the Blight."

"Would he now?" 

"Oh, _definitely."_ Marian agrees.

Solona allowed a single chortle of amusement. "Maybe some other time. I should be going."

"It's late. You should stay the night." Garrett quickly offered. "You can have any room you want, except Mother's."

"You want me to stay even though my father killed your mother?"

"... yes."

"Both of you?"

Marian remained quiet for a few moments. Solona stood, mirrored by her cousin. "We killed your father."

"So you did." she repeated.

"Stay the night." Marian said.

Solona studied her for a minute. Marian's features were settled sternly. She seemed certain, so Solona replied, "Okay."

"And you can bring your weapon in, too."

She nodded and approached the door, grabbing it. The smooth sheathe of Spellweaver was familiar and comforting, a blade that had been with her since near the journey's beginning. By now, she used it more often than she used her arcane blade. Both were dear companions, but the magic used by the arcane blade could be more than she could afford to lose at times.

"We can have Varric come visit, or head down to the Hanged Man." Garrett added as they all began upstairs.

"I never said I would meet him."

"You should." Marian piped up.

"Are we going to… actually address the thing about our parents?" Garrett asked.

"Didn't we?"

"Eh…"

Solona raised a brow. "What more is there to say?"

"'I don't hate you for killing my father'?" Garrett suggested. 

Marian added, "'I'm sorry he killed your mother.'"

Solona blinked at the two, determining to herself if they were serious. "I don't hate you for killing my father. I'm sorry he killed your mother." she echoed.

"Well, now you're just saying that to make us happy." Marian groused, crossing her arms.

Garrett and Solona ignored her in unspoken agreement. "I'm sorry it was your father." he said, holding her gaze with grave seriousness.

"As am I."

"It must be difficult to think of him like that."

"It doesn't reconcile well with my memories of him." Solona admitted. He had been kind, he had been a patient and calm teacher. He had inspired a love of magic and learning, and kept the weight her- their- secret from crushing her.

But she had stopped being a child a long time ago.

Garrett nodded. 

"Good night." Solona said, turning away.

"Good night." they echoed in unison. _"I hate when you do that."_ grumbled Marian behind her.

 _"I can't help if you talk at the same time as me, Marian."_ Garrett replied, exasperated.

Solona shook her head slightly.

Finding her old room was easy. It was empty now of all her belongings, all her knick-knacks and trinkets. The bed was an adult's, not a child's, and its bedding was red, not dark blue. Solona set Spellweaver against the night stand and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching down to unlace and slip out of her boots. Set at the edge of the bed, Solona laid down.

Her father had been caught by the Chantry. He'd been put through the Harrowing?

She frowned.

Could Daylen have taken care of the others? Of Damion and Fausten and Leann? Or had they all been taken, ripped away from each other?

Solona took a breath in and let it out. Those were thoughts for another day.

She rolled onto her side and waited for sleep to embrace her.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
